My Word: Longing for Captain America's shield

August 8, 2011|By Chad Rouch

With the first big-screen adventure of Captain America opening last month, I thought it was time to dust off an old memory I have of the titular superhero.

During a trip to the mall, when I was about 6 years old, my parents bought me a Mego action figure of Captain America. Sure, it was the size of a Barbie doll, but it was an action figure. It was beautiful, and had an actual cloth suit, not the painted uniforms that adorn modernday action figures.

As children are known to do, my impatience got the better of me, and I unboxed the toy on the car ride home. I was positioned on "the hump" in the middle of the backseat between my two older brothers. Because I'm the youngest, it was my lot in life to always be given the most uncomfortable seat.

Still, the ache in my backside did not deter me from admiring my new treasure, the little shield especially catching my eye. As any fan of the comic book knows, Captain America's shield is his defining characteristic, like Batman's utility belt or Wonder Woman's lasso.

The shield also caught the eye of my older brother. He asked if he could see it, and I assumed he was well aware of its significance and power. But, as older brothers are wont to do, he thought it would be funny to toss it right out the window — which he promptly did, somewhere along State Rroad 436.

The shock and horror in my eyes must have immediately registered as he quickly surmised this was not as funny as he had imagined it would be. To his credit, he did try to calm my hysterical tears by offering to craft a new shield for me. When we got home, he went out to our father's workbench to try and make it out of wood. Alas, the carpentry skills of a 9-year-old could not replace my beloved toy's accessory. After all, wood was hardly a substitute for the mixture of adamantium and vibranium that I was sure my tiny toy shield was actually made of.

Captain America still had his super strength and agility, but when I played, he was always in search of his shield, probably stolen by the horrifically evil Red Skull. It was just not the same without it.

Now, whenever I watch an episode of Stephen Colbert and see his replica Captain America shield hanging on his wall, I still long for my lost toy. Maybe one day a road crew will excavate the tiny toy. I imagine it's still in pristine shape. After all, it's made of vibranium.